


this love

by blazeofglory



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-27 09:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2687357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blazeofglory/pseuds/blazeofglory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac couldn’t say he'd never considered it, but in truth, he really hadn’t thought about it <em>seriously. </em>It was just an idle thought that would occur to him sometimes-- he’d be with Enjolras and Combeferre, doing something mundane, and then he’d begin to wonder… Sometimes, he wondered about it when he was alone, too, in his bed in the dark, only a few thin walls separating him from his best friends.</p><p>What would it be like? What would happen if he gave in one day and grabbed both their hands and invited them into his bed? Would they go, or would they protest? Would Enjolras mind a trail of hickeys down his pale neck? Would Combeferre moan when he was touched?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Courfeyrac couldn’t say he'd never considered it, but in truth, he really hadn’t thought about it _seriously._ It was just an idle thought that would occur to him sometimes-- he’d be with Enjolras and Combeferre, doing something mundane, and then he’d begin to wonder… Sometimes, he wondered about it when he was alone, too, in his bed in the dark, only a few thin walls separating him from his best friends.

What would it be like? What would happen if he gave in one day and grabbed both their hands and invited them into his bed? Would they go, or would they protest? Would Enjolras mind a trail of hickeys down his pale neck? Would Combeferre moan when he was touched? Sometimes, yes, he thought about it, but only in fantasy. It was so unreasonable, so _impossible,_ it wasn’t worth entertaining seriously; it would never happen.

It was during a meeting one night that Courfeyrac’s musings started to get away from him. Enjolras was mid-speech, cheeks flushed and eyes bright, and Courfeyrac was so gone on him. He couldn’t even comprehend what it was that he was talking about-- only that he was beautiful and passionate, and Courfeyrac wanted to kiss those red lips.

Combeferre nudged him and Courfeyrac startled, making Ferre raise a brow in amusement. “Distracted?” he asked quietly, and if Courfeyrac had been anyone else, perhaps he may have blushed at being caught out, but he didn’t.

“I haven’t heard a word Enj has said for the past ten minutes,” Courfeyrac admitted. Combeferre looked as if he wanted to comment, but Enjolras sent them a pointed look, silencing their conversation, but making them both grin.

Courfeyrac tried his best to pay more attention, but it was near impossible. The second he managed to make himself stop ogling their fearless leader, he realized just how close Combeferre had scooted to whisper in his ear. Their thighs were practically touching, and when he shifted slightly, their knees bumped; neither of them moved. Combeferre was warm, as he always was, no matter the temperature, and Courfeyrac wanted to feel that warmth pressed against him, skin on skin, alone together-- but, no, that didn’t seem quite right.

He glanced back up at Enjolras, who was fixing his messy bun as he spoke, and-- oh, that was it. He wanted them both, together, _right now._ The fantasies of before seemed less idle now; less _what would happen?_ and more _I would kill for this to happen_.

Combeferre shifted, their thighs flush together now. Courfeyrac pinched the bridge of his nose. This wasn’t good.

\--

Though arguably the most impulsive of the trio, Courfeyrac refused to fuck anything up on a whim. It was normal to be attracted to his friends-- they’d been inseparable for years, it was only natural to wonder about them in this context, right? Sexual curiosity was allowed, right? Ferre and Enjolras were both so attractive, how could anyone _not_ think about sleeping with them?

If sex was the only issue, Courfeyrac would’ve laughed it off and stopped worrying. Sex was just sex; he could ignore desire. But… it went deeper, and that’s what worried him. He didn’t just imagine his friends in his bed; he imagined holding their hands when they walked down the street and adding gentle kisses to their Friday night cuddles on the couch. He didn’t even want to _fuck_ them; he wanted to make love. For Courfeyrac, that was… new territory.

So, naturally, as confused as he was, he turned to the two people who knew a thing about love: Marius and Cosette.

Marius was frowning the second the words “ _I’m in love with both of my best friends_ ” left Courfeyrac’s mouth, but Cosette was grinning hard enough to make up for it. Courf smiled a little nervously, wringing his hands on the tabletop. He was sitting across from them in a corner booth at the Musain, where they all spent an obscene amount of their time. In fact, Jehan was in the corner nook, engrossed in a thick novel, and Feuilly had stopped in for a coffee from Musichetta just a moment ago.

“I’d hoped you three would get together,” Cosette gushed, still grinning. Marius continued to look confused.

“I thought you and Combeferre were together…” Marius trailed off, raising a quizzical brow.

“Really?” Courfeyrac asked, entertaining the idea for a moment. Did he and Ferre act more than friendly toward each other? Well, probably, but that closeness always involved Enjolras too. Even when he was alone with one of them, the missing presence was always felt. It only felt completely _right_ when they were all three together.

“You’re obviously smitten with them both,” Cosette replied, echoing his unspoken thoughts. “You have a bit of a staring problem.”

Courfeyrac’s tentative smile dropped instantly. “I do?”

Marius nodded. “I have noticed that much.”

Cosette gave a little shrug. “I don’t think either of them have noticed; or if they have, they don’t think anything of it.”

Well, that was slightly better. If Enjolras and Combeferre knew, they’d probably feel guilty and apologetic and uncomfortable. Cosette knew what she was talking about, and Marius did his best; he did understand being in love, at least. Courfeyrac wasn’t fooling himself into thinking his feelings were anything less than love. He wanted to wake up next to the two of them in his bed every day, for goodness sake. He sighed, rubbing tiredly at his eyes.

“What do I do?” he asked helplessly, whining. Cosette rolled her eyes, though Marius, sweetheart that he was, did look genuinely concerned.

“You could talk to them about it,” Cosette suggested. “But you won’t, because of course that’s too easy.” Courfeyrac wanted to protest, but she wasn’t exactly wrong.

“You could just… make a move?” Marius suggested next. “They love you, Courf, it would probably work.”

Courfeyrac shook his head miserably. “They love me as a _friend_ , Marius. Neither of them want me as a boyfriend.”

Cosette reached across the table to hold his hand, squeezing in silent support. Marius’s hand joined hers, both of them smiling gently at him from across the table. He felt a rush of affection and gratitude that he had such great friends-- they all loved him, he never doubted it for a second. In another universe, he could see himself falling in love with Marius and Cosette.

“You don’t know that,” Cosette said softly. “They very well might. Maybe you just… need to get the idea into their heads? They may not have even considered it.”

Courfeyrac perked up a little. She had a point. After all, he’d only just started seriously considering it himself. Enjolras was notoriously oblivious to all feelings, and Ferre hardly dated-- neither of them spent much time at all thinking about romance. “How do I get them to think about it without being obvious?”

“Try one-on-one,” Marius advised, started to grin. “Y’know, see how they both respond to, like, flirting, or something.”

Cosette nodded eagerly, blonde curls bouncing. “Make them think of you in terms of sex.”

“This might work,” Courfeyrac agreed slowly, his smile finally coming back.

\--   

Combeferre seemed the easiest to approach in theory, but he was also so perceptive, he’d probably figure out what Courfeyrac was doing in mere minutes. Enjolras, on the other hand, was likely to not notice any flirting at all; that would be counterproductive, really, but safer. Enjolras was definitely the less stressful option, so Courfeyrac chose him first.

They all shared an apartment, so it was easy to slip into Enjolras’s bedroom while he was in the shower. Courfeyrac lounged comfortably on the bed, and really, this was hardly unusual for him. They hadn’t had boundaries since a month into meeting; it wasn’t even unusual that he was shirtless-- Enjolras and Combeferre saw him like that all the time.

When Enjolras finally finished up and came back, he smiled at Courfeyrac, not even remotely phased that his friend was just hanging out on his bed, sans shirt. “Comfortable?” he teased, unaware of the effect he was having on Courfeyrac. His hair was loose around his shoulders, dark and dripping, water running down his chest… Courfeyrac forced himself to look at his friend’s face.

“Extremely,” he finally answered, stretching his arms out over the copious pillows. “Have you been running in the morning again? You look fit.” And this time, when he looked Enjolras over, he did it with purpose, eyes lingering.

The blonde blushed a little, turning to fumble around in his dresser for pajamas. “Sometimes, but I didn’t think it showed.”

“It definitely does.”

Too obvious? Maybe, but it was _Enjolras,_ so who knew if he realized Courfeyrac was flirting? And besides, he said this kind of stuff to him all the time, anyway. Enjolras just hummed in acknowledgement, dropping his towel shamelessly. Courfeyrac blushed now, because _that ass._ Enjolras had no idea how attractive he was, did he? All too soon, Enjolras had donned boxers and flannel pants, though he followed Courfeyrac’s lead and neglected to put on a shirt.

“Have you seen my hairbrush?” the blonde asked, turning back to Courfeyrac, who was holding the brush up with a grin. Enjolras laughed, joining Courfeyrac on the bed. “You have to touch everything, don’t you? Can I have it?”

Courfeyrac sent Enjolras a _look_ that obviously meant _no way._ He sat up properly, then patted the space right in front of him. Enjolras sighed long-sufferingly, but acquiesced, sitting cross-legged in front of Courfeyrac. This wasn’t new, either, though it had certainly been a while since Courfeyrac had brushed Enjolras’s hair. Back when the three of them had shared a dorm room freshman and sophomore years, this had happened all the time.

“I don’t remember the last time you did my hair,” Enjolras said quietly as Courfeyrac ran his fingers through the damp curls. He moved the hair over Enjolras’s shoulders, fingertips brushing against the soft neck that Courfeyrac dreamt of kissing. Enjolras shivered, almost imperceptibly, at the gentle touch.

“You used to hate it,” Courfeyrac reminded him, chuckling at the memory. “You loved the braid, but you hated that I pulled your hair.”

Enjolras snorted. “Yeah, that’s why I only let you do it while it’s wet now.”

Courfeyrac slowly dragged the brush through Enjolras’s hair, thankfully tangle-free. He didn’t speak again until he put down the brush, and when he did, his voice was low. He hoped his nerves weren’t showing. “Your hair is gorgeous.” A pause, then, “You’re gorgeous, Enj.”

Enjolras was quiet for a moment, probably blushing. “You are too,” he said at last, sounding embarrassed. Courfeyrac grinned, heart full to burst, and leaned in to press a kiss to the back of Enjolras’s head.

Without another word, Courfeyrac began to french braid his hair.

 


	2. Chapter 2

After he finally left Enjolras and retreated to his own bed, Courfeyrac laid awake for hours, unsure exactly how to feel. That had gone well, right? He hadn’t done what Cosette said and make Enjolras think about him in sex kinda way, but… they definitely had a moment. Did Enjolras realize that they’d had a moment? Was it even a real moment if he was the only one who thought it was a moment?

What was the next step? The thought of approaching Combeferre was nerve wracking because Courfeyrac _knew_ his friend would figure everything out, but that was logically the next step, right? Or maybe it wasn’t… Courfeyrac didn’t just have to make his friends think about being in a relationship with _him_ ; he also had to get them thinking about each other. That required even more brainstorming…

Well, maybe it didn’t have to be some elaborate plan. Courfeyrac knew exactly what would work.

\--

The next day, after classes and a microwave dinner and hours of homework, Courfeyrac made his way into his other friend’s bed. He felt a little lazy employing the same trick from the day before, but whatever worked, right? So, Combeferre went to shower and Courfeyrac went to lay in his bed. He kept his shirt on this time, though; the goal tonight was not to seduce Ferre. The goal was to get Ferre to want to seduce Enjolras. Unless he could do both at the same time? _Whatever_ , he was going to wing it.

Unlike Enjolras, Combeferre was already dressed in his pajamas when he got back to his room; but just like Enjolras, all he did when he saw Courf in his bed was smile. “Someone’s been sleeping in my bed,” he quipped.

Courfeyrac laughed. “Don’t worry, I didn’t eat any of your porridge.”

Combeferre joined him on the bed, their heads on the same pillow. Courfeyrac couldn’t help but let his eyes wander just a little, landing on his lips. What would Ferre do if he kissed him? Courfeyrac dragged his eyes back up to find Combeferre staring at him, a peculiar look on his face. And if he wasn’t mistaken, then that was a faint blush darkening his tan skin. Suddenly, he felt a little less nervous. Combeferre didn’t exactly look unwelcome to any advances.

“What are you thinking about?” Combeferre asked, brows furrowed.

Courfeyrac ducked his head, shrugging a little. Perhaps he should just be honest; Combeferre did appreciate directness, after all. He licked his lips, and _oh,_ Combeferre’s eyes followed the movement. Courfeyrac felt himself grinning. “I’m thinking about kissing you.”

Combeferre was definitely blushing now, and he fell silent for a second, but then he was leaning in and—the kiss was so short, so chaste, it was over before Courfeyrac could even respond. Ferre was frowning, as if regretting what he’d just done, and Courfeyrac felt his heart drop. “What about Enjolras?” Combeferre asked, voice flat.

Courfeyrac wasn’t sure if he should be happy about this line of questioning or not. “What _about_ Enjolras?” he countered.

Combeferre sighed in exasperation, sitting up; Courfeyrac did the same. “You like Enjolras,” he elaborated. “And he likes you back.”

Damn it, Combeferre always was going to be the difficult one here. Courf ran a hand through his hair nervously, trying to figure out how best to phrase this… “You’re not wrong. Well, I don’t know if Enj likes me back, but you’re mostly right,” he conceded. Combeferre was beginning to look angry. “But I like you too.”

“You like me too?” Combeferre frowned. “Does Enjolras know that?”

“I have no idea what Enjolras knows,” Courfeyrac admitted. “He’s probably still oblivious that I like him, let alone that I like you.” He paused awkwardly. “Do you, uh, actually like me too?”

Combeferre blushed again, and he still looked confused, but he nodded. Courfeyrac grinned and reached for Ferre’s hand, squeezing it. “Good. Now, how do you feel about Enjolras?”

Realization was beginning to dawn on Combeferre’s face. “I think that… we aren’t complete without him,” he said slowly.

Courfeyrac grinned, nodding enthusiastically. “Yes, yes, _exactly._ ”

Combeferre started to smile too, his whole face lighting up—god, he was gorgeous. “I like where this is going, Courf.”

Because he could, Courfeyrac leaned in for a proper kiss, smiling into it. Combeferre was wearing some sorta fruity chapstick and his lips were soft against Courfeyrac’s. They both smiled into it, feeling foolish and elated, and Courfeyrac pulled back after a moment.

“We just need to get Enjolras on board.”

Combeferre nodded, twining their fingers together. “This could really work.”

\--

Friday night was movie night; it had been since freshman year. The three of them piled onto the couch made for two, and voted on a movie. Enjolras always ended up getting the one he wanted, Courfeyrac always fell asleep, and Combeferre kept up a running commentary the whole time. This Friday was a little different, though. Courfeyrac and Combeferre had a plan, and they were going to carry it out if it was the last thing they did.

Once Courfeyrac and Combeferre were sat on the couch and Enjolras was perched on the edge of the coffee table with two DVDs in hand, he asked, just like every Friday, “What are you guys in the mood for?

Courfeyrac and Combeferre exchanged a glance; Combeferre nodded. Enjolras raised a brow. “We don’t want to watch a movie tonight,” Courfeyrac declared.

“Since when?” Enjolras frowned, looking between the two of them. He wasn’t stupid, he knew something was going on. They both seemed a little _off_.

“We need to talk,” Combeferre supplied, to which Courfeyrac sent him a half-hearted glare over his choice of words.

“Okay,” Enjolras said slowly. “Did something happen? Is everything alright?”

“No, no, everything’s fine,” Courfeyrac assured him, leaning forward to pat Enjolras’s knee. “We just, uh, want to ask you something?”

Courfeyrac sent Combeferre a worried look, silently begging him to take over. Enjolras continued to look confused.

“Courfeyrac and I like each other,” Combeferre announced, no preamble about it. “And we both like you.”

Enjolras opened his mouth, then closed it again, then looked between the two of them. He was quiet for a long moment; Courfeyrac reached for Combeferre’s hand for support and Enjolras’ eyes tracked the movement. Finally, he said, “I don’t understand.”

“We want to date you,” Courfeyrac blurted out in a rush. “We want you to date both of us. Like Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta.”

Combeferre nodded solemnly, locking eyes with Enjolras and refusing to look away. Another minute passed. Enjolras dropped his gaze, then glanced up at Courfeyrac; then at Combeferre again.

“Okay.” A slow smile spread across his face, and Enjolras _blushed._ “I want to date you. Both of you.”

“Yes!” Courfeyrac cheered, squeezing Combeferre’s hand tight. God, he couldn’t believe this was happening. This was _really_ happening. Somehow, they both wanted him, and that was fucking mind blowing. He leaned forward eagerly. “Enjolras, I’d really like to kiss you.”

Enjolras’ smile widened and he nodded. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! I hope this was okay? I'm not very confident writing Combeferre, and I don't even really ship him with Courfeyrac outside of shipping the three of them together, so... All of this was a little odd for me; I usually write only Courfeyrac/Marius and Enjolras/Grantaire... This whole fic made me nervous. Let me know what you guys thought?


End file.
